NGOKA ELEVEN

A While Back

Kano City,

Nigeria

A Pharmacist Named Wole

Some years ago in the northern Nigerian city of Kano, I met an interestin’ nigga named Wole, a fresh graduate of pharmacy…

Kano?

Uh huh, the same city that was headline news last week for the Friday January the 20^th bomb attack by Boko Haram (an Islamic sect opposed to western education). The ironic thing about these Haramists is that the leaders are well educated; some even got educated in the United States and speak fluent English with American accent. How dumb can the followers of this terror organisation get, huh? I mean, you have to be poor and mentally enslaved to join these niggas.

Anyways, I lived in that great city for two interestin years and I enjoyed every minute of it (includin’ the broke-no-food-to-eat minutes) and my boy Kevin and some other folks can testify to it cause they were all there, we ran the freakin’ town together, if y’all know what I mean.

What, you don’t? Then jus go ahead and act like you know. Lol!

And what was I doin’ Kano?

I was there on national youth service, a one year mandatory postin’ every graduate gotta go through before jumpin’ into the rat race of real time paper chasin’ and buildin’ a life in the real world.

See, the university life can be very decievin’ for about ninety eight percent of undergraduates cause somebody else (insert parents, guardians or whoever) is pickin’ the tab for their education and all them other indulgences that goes with it and trust me, there are many of those. So, the youth service thing was meant to ease our graduate asses into the whirlpool of real time hustle and grind.

Back to my nigga the pharmacist

Wole’s gotta be one of the most interestin’ dudes anybody can hang with, he was Intelligent, had great sense of humor, loved his booze as well as his women, could sustain a good banter for days, nigga was a damn good general knowledge guy.

General knowledge, ah ha! You see, am a good general knowledge kinda guy myself and I was back then too but there are still many things you don’t know that others know, right? Whenever I meet nigga like my bud Wole I like to chill and pick their brain and though I may not soak it all in, some things (a word, a phrase or a name) stick.

It was Wole that first me got readin’ on Salah ad Din Yusuf Ibn Ayyuba a.k.a Saladin (the first sultan of Egypt and Syria) and his wars against the crusaders. One day, I was at his crib with some of our other friends and one thing led to things (like one of my friends like to say) and the talk got to the Ottoman Empire, Saladin, the crusaders and stuffs.

I held my peace and jus nodded, mumble and chip in the very little I know about the discussion like a wise sage. Nigga didn’t know I was a dumb fuck about Saladin and his famous wars. *smilin’*

Apart from the name Saladin and a couple of other things I took away from that encounter, Wole used the phrase “One Size Fits All” while he was arguing a point and that kinda stuck. Whenever I hear, see or use the phrase, I remember my nigga! That’s weird, huh? As that ever happened to y’all?

One Size Fits All

Part One

“One size fits All” is a phrase used to describe an item of clothin’ designed to fit most average people. Hmm, am sure my boy Lanre a.k.a Fat Boy Slim (a huge nigga) will have a lot to say about the “one size fits all” claim. Lanre is pro’ly the person I know (apart from Chuck Norris) who’s ever lost weight jus by sayin’ ‘‘am gonna lose weight’’ ah ha!

I once heard a tale that many many many years ago, garment manufacturers and merchants held a pow wow at some secret location in London wit the sole aim of comin’ up wit new ploys to get folks to buy more clothes without contemplatin’ their decision. They know that people will pro’ly change their minds once they start tryin’ things on, so after that secret meetin’ they came up wit’ the “one size fits all” scheme…*clears throat* am lyin’, nobody told me any story. Lol

What am tryna is, one size doesn’t fit all and even a fool knows that!

But wait a minute, I heard them clothes manufacturer now know that wised up to their scheme so they’ve switched the up and came up wit’ “One size Fits Most”

Part Two

The phrase is also used to describe a one-dimensional approach to solvin’ problems, a silver bullet kinda solution. Jus fire a silver bullet in there and poof, problems are solved.

Monday

25 January

17:26

115 Diseases

I’d jus returned to the shop to get my backpack when I happened on an interestin’ scene, a salesman who’d come to the shop to buy some’ to drink was tryna sell his stuff to the shopkeeper and the customers who’d come to the shop to buys.

20 Minutes Earlier

I was feelin’ very tired (maybe a lil’ feverish) and impatient cause the guy I’d told to come meet there hadn’t showed, so I decided to take a walk down to  the newsstand to check if the vendor still had the Newsweek 2011 Photo of The Year edition (that shit had iconic photos it. The dead body of Gaddafi, Nicky Minaj and Gaga all doled like scare crows, the Arab springers etc ). I’d tried to buy the magazine a day before but the vendor acted like he didn’t need the money.

How?

Well, I asked the man how much the mag was goin’ for, he told me the price. I beat it down. He said no. I put a lil some’ on my first offer, the nigga said to put a lil more.

I pulled out my wallet and expertly fished out what I wanted him to believe was all I had. I waved the money close to his way so he could get a good look at what he was about to lose if I walk away (wavin’ the cash in his face was bait ). The man wouldn’t budge. Slowly, I put the cash back in my wallet and started movin’ away from the stand half hopin’ the punk ass would call me back but alas, nigga stuck to his gun.

Fuck it, it wasn’t like the mag was a January 2011 edition, that shit was a December issue for god’s sake and this nigga watched money walk right out of his stand. Oh well

17:26

So, the salesman was holdin’ court, he had three nigga captive wit his salesman’s skill. I paid them no mind, I jus told the shopkeeper to pass my backpack and I was ready to go home and get some rest but then I heard the salesman say somethin’ that blew me away.

“This medicine that you’re seein’ cures one hundred and fifteen diseases” the salesman enthused

What! My head automatically snapped in his direction. A medicine that cures a host of diseases, that’s a “One Size Fits All” medicine right there!

“Can I take a look?” I said, reaching’ out my hand

Nigga handed me a pamphlet and five green sachets (all strung together) of the messianic medicine. Ngoka Eleven, the name on the sachet proudly proclaimed. I switched my attention to the pamphlet and it confirmed what the salesman said, shit could cure 115 diseases! What! How come Pfizer and all them other pharmaceutical heavyweights never knew about this?

“Hmm, is this stuff for real?” my game face was on as I handed the miracle medicine back to him. Damn, I tried real hard not to crack open a while smile.

‘’Boss, this medicine is very good’’ he beamed

“Seriously, how did you know that?”

“Draining the last the drop of his bottled water, he replied “I’ve used it some many times before. It cured my ulcer”

I stiffed my lips and nodded, that was the best I could do to keep myself from puttin’ a needle to his Ngoka Eleven balloon.  Now, what kinda guy would I be if I rubbished his means of livehood wit’ a superior argument on why there’s no “One Size Fits All” medicine

I wonder what my nigga, pharmacist Wole would say to that street pharmacist if he was there wit me?